Page 28 of Ruthless Chaos

Now that my eyes have adjusted to the dim light, I recognize the femininity of their physiques beneath the black jumpsuits of my kidnappers.

That’s when the realization hits me. This is a Hemlock House thing.

“Here stands the House of Hemlock,” the girl in white says. Her chirpy voice is in stark contrast to the creepiness of our surroundings. “Bless our undertakings.”

A chant erupts in a hushed whisper from everyone else in attendance, except those of us bound on the floor. It doesn’t sound like English, but I manage to catch pieces of it.

Only one phrase in their muddled chant stands out to me. Something my father often says—Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.

‘If I cannot bend the will of heaven, then I shall move hell.’

When the chant dies down, the girl in white begins to speak again. She seems to be the one in charge, the cult leader.

“Thank you for honoring us with your presence, sisters-in-waiting.”

Her saccharine tone makes my stomach clench with unease. I’m naked and shivering on a dusty, cold stone floor with my feet bound and she’sthankingus for showing up?

This must be some sort of sick prank.

Is this what Tara was alluding to? Glancing around at the other girls bound on the floor, they don’t seem as scared anymore. They watch the girl in white with rapt attention.

This has to be it.If you don’t know already, it’s too late, Tara had said.

My throat starts to close in. Why didn’t Uncle Laurent give me a heads up about this? He had to have known.

The leader’s jarring voice slices through my thoughts.

“It is a highly esteemed privilege to be chosen for Hemlock House,” she says, smiling so wide it looks forced. There’s the hint of an aristocratic accent as she speaks. “Our sisterhood was founded to empower women. The sacred teachings passed down within these walls have shaped the world.” Her eyes widen, and the flickering lights make her look like something from a horror movie. “In a societyallegedlyruled by men, the women of Hemlock have used the dark art of seduction to manifest their deepest desires for centuries. To this day, our sisterhood stays true to that mission.”

She pauses, looking us over one by one.

Her cold eyes linger on me and something tells me she’s just like those girls from the hallway.

“We promise you unbreakable bonds of friendship that will transcend your time here at Saint Frederic University. You will reap the benefits of the unions forged in this House for the rest of your life.” She pauses, moving her fingers with a flourish. “The fact that you are here means that you are among the chosen. Whether by blood or bond, Hemlock House is your destiny.”

My mouth goes dry.

There goes that thing again—the belief that I somehow belong inthisdorm.

It must have been a mix-up at the admissions office. Uncle Laurent didn’t mention a seduction cult. He explicitly told me to lay low.

This is a huge mistake. I can’t even get it fixed without blowing my cover.

“Before you can be inducted into our sisterhood, you will have to pass the Trials of Admittance. The three Trials are meant to assess your readiness to bear the mantle of Hemlock House. The first of those Trials begins tonight.”

My jaw slackens.

Nothing called atrialcan be good, especially at the hands of people who kidnapped us from our rooms and brought us down here blindfolded and gagged. I can’t even run away if I wanted to, for my feet are still bound.

Terror wraps itself around my spine.

The girl in white commands us to stand. It’s difficult to do, but I manage it. I’m mortified when I realize I can’t cover my body while standing. I’ll have to choose between my boobs, my privates, or the fresh wounds on my thighs.

I choose my thighs.

“A Hemlock House woman should be presentable at all times.” She glides from behind the lectern toward us. “Your body is your greatest asset, and you should treat it as such.”

My embarrassment deepens.